


Pair

by Truthwatcher_Vez



Series: Chasms Between [3]
Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, First Kiss, M/M, Semi-Canon Interspecies Relationship, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29888898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truthwatcher_Vez/pseuds/Truthwatcher_Vez
Summary: Some things are worth waiting for.Note:  The very first few paragraphs of this story contain major spoilers for the end of Rhythm of War.  Fair warning for any folks who haven’t yet finished the book.
Relationships: Renarin Kholin/Rlain
Series: Chasms Between [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140251
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	Pair

**Author's Note:**

> Final installment in a series of Renarin/Rlain fics. Set during chapter 116 of Rhythm of War. Contains many, many spoilers for Rhythm of War. Also contains non-canon elements and speculation. Constructive feedback welcomed.

Off-duty bridge soldiers had completely taken over Jor’s winehouse in the Breakaway market. Late afternoon had become evening, and all of the current members of Bridge Four and Bridge Thirteen were present, having arrived directly from Teft’s funeral. Formal telling and re-telling of Teft’s finest and most entertaining moments by those who had known him best had devolved into rowdy conversations among smaller groups. As the alcohol flowed, the crowd grew more raucous, and newcomers from other bridge units continued to filter in to join the festivities.

Rlain sat apart, listening to the conversations around him but not joining in. As a member of Bridge Four who had been present for the occupation of Urithiru, he’d been one of the first to say his piece, to give tribute to the fallen Bridge Four Sargent. He’d even said a few words on Dabbid’s behalf, as the shy bridgeman hadn’t wanted to speak in front of the group.

 _You are sad,_ Tumi pulsed to the Rhythm of Curiosity, _But also happy?_

Human customs were different from listener customs, but Rlain could see why they did things this way. _The funeral this afternoon was about death,_ Rlain replied to his spren. _This is about remembering. About celebrating life._

A large group of soldiers from Bridge Nine arrived, and the volume of noise in the winehouse ratcheted up by several notches. Across the room, Rlain saw Renarin Kholin cover a wince at an outburst of boisterous laughter, and then watched as he excused himself from a conversation with Yake. The lighteyed man carefully skirted along the wall behind the newcomers and slipped out the door of the crowded winehouse.

Rlain considered that a moment, then set aside his half-finished cup of red and rose to his feet.

He caught up with Renarin by the lifts. Renarin was surprised to see him, but Rlain thought he seemed pleased as well.

“Rlain. Congratulations. I heard the news about your spren.”

“Tumi says that you’re partially responsible,” the listener responded, attuning to the Rhythm of Appreciation.

Renarin shook his head firmly. “I just made a suggestion. The spren are the ones who choose.” 

“I have some questions to ask you. But they can wait if it’s not a good time.”

“No, it’s okay,” Renarin said. “It just got… really loud and crowded. I thought I might go up to one of the balconies and get some fresh air.”

The lift arrived, and Rlain followed Renarin onto the platform. As the lift started upwards again, Tumi surprised Rlain by emerging into plain sight. Like Renarin’s spren Glys, Tumi usually preferred to stay hidden. Now he rose out of Rlain’s chest and hovered in the air between them, a shimmering translucent shape like a snowflake, glowing and dripping red light upwards.

“Hello. Tumi, is it?” Renarin smiled at the spren, though the nod that followed was a formal one. “I’m very happy to meet you. Glys has been waiting a long time.” 

Not to be outdone, Glys emerged from hiding, as well. The two spren circled each other, similar in form and size, but distinct in the arrangement of their crystalline structure. Both glowing ruby-red. Corrupted. Enlightened.

Two of Sja-Anat’s children. Brothers, who were no longer alone.

“More, there must be more like us,” Glys said eagerly. It was the first time he had spoken so Rlain could hear.

“Glys,” Renarin said, sounding exasperated. “One step at a time. Please.”

The lift slowed, and both spren puffed back into their respective hiding places before the platform fully came to a halt at the fifth tier. Renarin and Rlain exited into wide corridors where the stone was lined with yellow and orange strata. There were many people moving about here, or gathering in communal spaces. Most were Alethi, but Rlain saw several groups of Azish and Vedens who were dressed in the clothing typical of merchants, as well as some individuals wearing garb that was even more foreign. Moving among them were guards on patrol, wearing black and gold uniforms with the skyeel glyphpair of Highprince Sebarial. 

Rlain looked sideways at Renarin, attuned to Curiosity. With the mix of styles and colors around them, their Bridge Four military uniforms didn’t draw nearly as much attention as Rlain might have expected—although he did earn several double-takes from passers-by as his size, marbled skin and warform carapace set him apart from all of the humans moving in the halls. However, as Renarin started forward no one tried to stop them, so Rlain just followed along.

“Since Sebarial is Highprince of Commerce, a lot of the merchants from the Breakaway have settled up here to live,” Renarin explained. “Even though the Highprince himself is currently staying in the warcamps on the Shattered Plains, he’s been making sure to maintain a presence in Urithiru. People come and go from this level at all hours. It’s well-lit and well-patrolled, as you can see.” 

They wound through a series of busy hallways until they reached a section of corridor where the stone of the walls appeared to have been cut at frequent intervals in order to provide space for a long row of doors. Wooden boxes that were a little bigger than Rlain’s hand had been mounted to the front of every door. A glowing garnet, the size of a gem from a garnet mark, was secured behind a small pane of glass inside each box. Renarin found a door where the garnet was dun, and he pulled a handful of spheres from his pocket and sorted through them until he found a garnet chip. He dropped it into a round opening at the top of the box. The container appeared to be some sort of fabrial, because the clink of the sphere was followed by a transfer of Stormlight into the dun garnet, making it come alight. There was the sound of a tripped latch, and the door opened.

“These were set up so that the merchants would have quiet places to meet and negotiate, although they’re available for anyone to use.” Renarin glanced back at Rlain and shrugged. “It’s Sebarial, so of course he’s found a way to make a small profit off of the view.” 

Rlain followed him out onto one of the Urithiru balconies. Partitions had been built along this one, so instead of a large sweeping gathering space, there was a cozy area that could hold maybe 10 people comfortably, with a table and four chairs off to one side. Renarin dropped a couple of diamond chips into the goblet on the table, just to provide a bit of light. Rlain could hear the sounds of muted, indistinct conversations from beyond the partitions to either side of him. The effect was private, but not isolated.

He stepped up to the railing. The moons Salas and Nomon had already risen, frosting the mountains with blue-violet light. Rlain had rarely had reason to come out onto the higher-level balconies, and he had to admit that the scenery was impressive. Below him, the inhabited areas of Urithiru were bright with Towerlight. “Nice view of the Oathgate plateau,” Rlain observed.

Renarin gave an odd little smile. “I used to come up here a lot, for that reason.” He looked up at the night sky, a stray mountain breeze rifling his hair. “It’s also a nice place to just get away from the rest of the noise and to think.”

Ignoring the table and chairs, Renarin moved a cushion with brightly-colored Azish patterns up against the wall of the tower, and settled himself on it with his knees propped up in front of him. After taking one last look at the moonlit vista, Rlain set another cushion down on the stone and sat beside him. 

They talked, for what felt like the first time in ages, though in reality it had only been seven weeks. First it was about the Surges, and what Rlain might expect now that he was a Truthwatcher bonded to an enlightened spren. Renarin was especially interested in how Rlain’s Illumination might manifest, and they made plans to visit Shallan’s Lightweavers together so that Rlain could test out his powers. After that, Renarin wanted to know about everything that had happened during the occupation of Urithiru. 

Rlain obliged, glossing over some of the more unpleasant parts, focusing on their successes. Dabbid’s communication with the Sibling. Breaking Lift out of captivity. The truce between the humans and some of the Heavenly Ones. The discovery that there were listeners who had actually survived the Everstorm. …Then Rlain needed to backtrack to describe how he had covered up his Bridge Four tattoo and snuck around inside the tower at the beginning of the occupation. It warmed him inside to hear Renarin’s laughter as he recounted walking into and then out of the queen’s information vault unchallenged, liberating a huge batch of maps from right under the noses of their enemies.

Stories shared, they fell into companionable silence, neither needing to fill the space with noise. Rlain stared up at the stars. Storms, how he’d missed this. It felt like all was right with this corner of the world again, now that Renarin had returned.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renarin give him a sidelong look, and Rlain’s sharp listener ears picked up a faint sigh. He blinked in surprise at the quiet sound, turning his head. For a moment, their eyes met. Rlain took in the shy tilt of the head, the brightness in those light blue eyes, the wistful curve of that smile. 

…And abruptly, for the very first time, Rlain saw it clearly.

Renarin Kholin was in love with him.

Blindsided by the thought, he found himself staring. Moments over the past year came to him in flashes. A quiet _thank you_ at an offer to help with the Bridge Four dishes. Working with their heads bent close over a knot of pumps and pipes that made up part of the Urithiru irrigation system. The way Renarin had leaned into him for support in the aftermath of a particularly appalling vision. Grinning in triumph together the first time they’d defeated Bissig and Natam, in a sparring match, two-on-two. Tiny things, unremarkable on their own. …But then, Rlain couldn’t help but remember that embrace they had shared, on the day Renarin had departed for Emul. An embrace that, in hindsight, had been a little too familiar, lasting a little too long.

“What? What is it?” He saw the confusion on Renarin’s features as Rlain continued to stare at him. His eyes darted back and forth, searching Rlain’s expression, trying to figure out what had just changed. He frowned, his head tipped down, gaze turning inward. His eyes went a little wide then, his face turning pale. 

For a moment, Rlain felt himself teetering at the edge of the chasm that had always existed between them—a chasm created by expectation, social status, culture, heritage and societal norms. Rlain had spent more time than he cared to admit in the last few months staring down into those depths. That gulf only seemed to grow wider the more certain he became of _how good_ the two of them would be together as a pair. 

Renarin’s alarm was beginning to visibly tip into panic. “Rlain, I....” He scrambled to his knees and moved to rise.

A carapace-covered hand flashed out and caught his wrist, and Renarin flinched at the sudden, unexpected contact. _Too fast, that was too fast._ Rlain didn’t let go. For a moment he _couldn’t_ let go. 

Rlain had changed, in the past few weeks. Been imprisoned, then freed. Worked as part of a resistance movement and survived an occupation. Suffered the death of a friend and mentor. Celebrated the knowledge that thousands of his own people had escaped the Everstorm and were still alive. Stepped forward as a leader when necessary, and sworn the first ideal as a Knight Radiant. If he had learned anything during that span of time, it was that nothing in this world was certain. Rlain wasn’t willing anymore, to let the barriers created by others determine the course of his life.

The chasm between them was deep, but Tumi had been right. Rlain was a bridge. Drawing in a resolute breath, he made the decision to step across.

Rlain slowly rose up onto his knees across from Renarin, separated by a foot of space and a few inches of height. Renarin tracked the motion, and Rlain sensed more than saw the complex mix of emotions seething beneath the surface. Confusion. Fear. Hope. 

Words, Rlain needed words to explain, but he was giddy with the newfound freedom of purpose, and he didn’t have any idea what to say. He had never been good at expressing himself. Blunt and plainspoken by nature, he didn’t know how to speak the type of words that humans used for courting. He’d never bothered to pay attention to the conversations of the human couples around him. He’d only ever been an accidental bystander to their actions. 

Rlain released his hold on Renarin’s wrist, then reached out and slowly slid one knuckle of his crooked index finger beneath the line of Renarin’s jaw. Applying gentle pressure, he tilted Renarin’s chin up towards him. He moved closer, giving Renarin the time and the space to pull away if that was what he wanted. Renarin didn’t, however. He held his ground, although his breath caught sharply in the moment before their lips touched.

Renarin went utterly motionless at that very light, very deliberate contact—staying stationary long enough for Rlain realize that he might have made a mistake in using the behavior of human couples as a model. Renarin didn’t always react to things in the same way that other humans did. It was easy to forget sometimes, he worked so hard to adapt and adjust. Rlain waited, trying to give him time and pushing away the Rhythm of Anxiety.

He felt trembling touches as Renarin’s hands came up on either side of his face—feather light and hesitant, as if seeking reassurance that Rlain was really there. Renarin’s eyes slid closed, the tension in him slowly draining away. He leaned forward into the kiss, his mouth moving tentatively against Rlain’s.

Connection. Completion. The soul-deep recognition of a pair bond… one that had been denied for far too long. Renarin loved him, and he loved Renarin. The Rhythm of Joy encompassed Rlain, moving in him and through him. Beneath its ecstatic notes was something deeper, more profound. A tremor went through Rlain, and for a moment he felt as if he could reach out and touch the pure tones of Roshar.

It was several long minutes before they drew apart again, both glowing faintly from the Stormlight they’d automatically taken in so they didn’t need to stop to breathe. They were surrounded by a blizzard of tiny flakes of crystalline snow, drifting through the air. They’d attracted three large passionspren, and Rlain could see the long, sinuous shadows of their true forms, dipping and weaving around them in delight. 

“Storms,” whispered Renarin shakily. “Storms.” His slender fingers continued to press against Rlain’s face, and he looked searchingly into Rlain’s eyes. “That… wasn’t the same for you as it was for me.”

“No,” Rlain admitted. “But it can be different and still good at the same time.”

Renarin exhaled, blushing a little. He suddenly seemed to realize that he was still physically holding on to Rlain, and that caused him to blush more. He quickly withdrew his hands, clasping them together and stammering an embarrassed apology. The passionspren began to lose interest in the two of them and started to drift away. 

Still partly attuned to the euphoric cadence of Joy, Rlain wasn’t about to let Renarin simply retreat. Deliberately, he sat back against the wall of the tower, in the exact same spot he’d occupied before. Then he patted the cushion beside him in invitation.

Renarin hesitated, and Rlain recognized the distracted expression on his face. He got that look sometimes, reviewing a situation in his head to be sure he understood the intent behind a gesture. After a moment, he gingerly moved forward to settle in beside Rlain. Closer this time, their arms not quite brushing. “That… was one aspect of your becoming a Truthwatcher that I didn’t anticipate. Um. Glys is… very excited, and is saying ‘I told you so’. A lot.”

Rlain hummed to Amusement, while within him, Tumi pulsed to the Rhythm of Confidence. “I think I would have noticed sooner if I hadn’t been so busy telling myself that it was impossible. I was wrong. It’s not impossible. It’s just an idea that takes some getting used to.” Rlain switched his attunement to the Rhythm of Consideration. “For smart people,” he observed, “It seems that we’re both a little slow.”

“Well,” Renarin replied, drawing a knee up to his chest, “You’re always in warform. I didn’t think… I mean, the malen forms….” He was growing visibly flustered. He drew in a deep breath and plowed forward. “I didn’t really think that you’d ever be interested.” A pause, then he glanced up at Rlain briefly. “Of course, now I’m wondering if I’ve made assumptions about the listener forms that I shouldn’t have made.”

“Warform isn’t a good fit for me,” Rlain admitted. He raised his right arm, studying the carapace plates that covered the back of his hand. He flexed his fingers, then let his hand fall back down between them. “None of the common forms seem quite right. The songs say that there were many other forms in our history. Maybe it’s time to try and find a form that suits me better. A form that would be better for…” he paused, testing the waters as he carefully spoke the next words, “For us.”

Renarin absorbed that idea, looking thoughtful. He was silent for a while, then spoke up again. “I… uh, think that I should warn you. The way that I feel about you--it’s kind of an open secret among some of the more observant members of Bridge Four. I tried to be very careful, but I don’t have a listener’s stoic face. It was impossible to hide it from everyone.”

“Oh?” Rlain attuned Curiosity. “Who knows?”

“Sigzil, Drehy, Skar, Natam. Rock, before he left for the Peaks.” Renarin drew in a breath and let it out again as a wry chuckle. “In typical Bridge Four fashion, they figured it out… became scandalized… went to talk to Kaladin… eventually got over it… then came to check in on me to see if I needed any help.” 

He paused a moment, then cleared his throat self-consciously. “Sigzil said that if we ever run away together, we should avoid Azir. They haven’t invented the right paperwork for… um, people like us, yet.”

Rlain smiled. Then he hummed to Consideration. For a minute, he let himself entertain the idea. Running off to some place quiet, just the two of them. No other humans. No other listeners. No one who would judge them or mock them or try to separate them. It sounded nice.

Rlain reluctantly let the thought go. He’d already made the decision to stay, and knew without asking what Renarin’s choice would be. Renarin wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t abandon his family or his duty. There was still a war to fight and a god of hatred to resist.

Staying here at Urithiru would open them both up to a whole series of cascading consequences that Rlain wasn’t ready to even think about yet. They could, and probably should, keep this new development between them a secret, hiding it from public view for as long as possible.

Rlain thought he might have used up all of Renarin’s tolerance for touch for the evening—maybe for the entire rest of the month. So he was surprised and gratified when he felt the tips of Renarin’s fingers gliding over the palm of his right hand. It took him a minute to realize that Renarin was tracing the red marblings of his skin.

“It’s like a fingerprint,” Renarin murmured. “…But much more complex. The distance between two lines always varies. It’s beautiful. Unique.”

The acceptance and straightforward admiration of those simple words momentarily took Rlain’s breath away. He swallowed, feeling an almost unbearable lightness in his chest. “I adore you,” he said gruffly.

Renarin looked startled, then he blushed a deep red and looked away. “Are you sure? I’m… strange. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I noticed.” Rlain intertwined their hands together loosely. “…And I’m sure.”

Renarin responded by curling his fingers around Rlain’s. The blush didn’t completely fade from his cheeks, but he was smiling broadly anyway. He gave a pleased little sigh and tipped his head back against the wall of the tower. Rlain followed his gaze, and silently they watched green Mishim rise in the sky, the moon’s soft glow blending with the violet of Salas and the blue of Nomon to illuminate the surfaces around them with a purplish-white light. 

Rlain had no illusions about the path that lay ahead of them. It didn’t take a stained glass vision to see that they would encounter hostility and intolerance once they decided to make their relationship public and live openly as a mixed pair among the humans. Even more, living as a mixed pair during wartime, where the outcome of that war would determine the fate of all sentient life on Roshar. In spite of everything, however, for the first time in a very long time, Rlain felt at peace. He and Renarin would face it all, together. Together, Rlain was ready for whatever their future might hold. 


End file.
